Overheards- A is for Axe.

Scene:  Bedtime.  I am reading the girls a story out of a Richard Scarry book.  As I read I point out objects on the intricately drawn pages and ask TD what each object is. 

V:  OK, and what is this?

TD:  A windmill.

V:  Good.  And this? 

TD:  An axe.

V:  Great! What do you use an axe for?

TD:  Um... cutting people up! 

V:  (I burst out laughting and look down at her sweet upturned face.I caress her cheek with my hand and squeeze her little chin. Tiny pin pricks of tears well in my eyes.  She is my child! I smile.) Well, yes you could use an axe to cut people up but it isn't very nice and would hurt them a lot.  Unless they are already dead.  What you really want to use an axe for is cutting and chopping up wood.


Should I even mention that The Comedian does a killer zombie impression?

Detachable Penis

Scene:  The breakfast table.  It is barely 8 a.m. and I am working on my first cup of coffee.  T.D. sits across the table from me.  The Fifth Element is in my arms.

TD:  "Mom?  How did The Fifth Element get in your tummy?"

V:  "What?  Oh, you mean how did I have The Fifth Element?"

TD:  "Noooo.... How did The Fifth Element get IN your tummy?" 

V:  (Nervous smile, shooting eyes heavenward, thinking, "It is too early! Where is H when I need him?!")  "Eeehh, in my tummy. Right.  Well...." Swig coffee likes it is bourbon. 

And then I said the thing I swore I would never say because it is so cliched and so cheesy and as H put it 'wildly inaccurate because any two incestuous rednecks can make a baby!"  I said-

"Well, when a man and woman really love each other.."  Then I puked in my mouth.  OK, not really, but I wanted to.  "OK TD, let me start over. Men have sperm and women have eggs.  Sperm are a lot like little fish because they can swim.  The man gives the woman sperm to fertilize her egg, just like bees pollinating flowers. Got it?"

She nods, smiling.  I ask, "Are you sure you don't already know the answer to this?" 

TD:  "No.  Why?"

V:  "Just wondering. So the egg and sperm come together to make a baby that grows in the woman's tummy and that is how The Fifth Element got into mine."

TD:  "How did you get the sperm?" 

V: "Daddy gave it to me. It comes from his penis, which he puts in my vagina." 

TD: (Eyes wide, mouth hanging open) "He takes his penis OFF and gives it to you?!" 

V:  "Not quite.  We have to lay really close to each other to do this."

TD: "Oh. OK.  And some women have their babies through their vagina's and others get their stomachs cut open?" 

V:  (Can you tell she's been around a lot of pregnant women?)  "Yup.  That's how it works."

TD:  "When I grow up and have babies I want them to come out my vagina. No ones cutting me open!" 

Aren't you glad you came here for this sex education class today?

Overheards- Clowns

Scene:  TD and I are out for a walk, just the two of us.  We pass by a house with the front door open so she can see inside their foyer.  A two foot high clown dressed in a green and gold lame costume is standing like a sentry in the corner.

TD:  OOOhhh, look at that clown.  I love that clown. I want that clown in our house.

V:  I don't know about that. I don't really like clowns. 

TD:  You don't like clowns?! (This cannot be!  How can someone not like clowns?)

V:  No, they creep me out. Clowns scare me.

TD:  They scare you? Why?

V: I don't know. They just do.  Some people just don't like clowns. (I shudder as I think of all the scary clowns from my life- the red, white and blue one that hung in my nursery as a child.  I can still recall it as I peered out at it from behind crib bars.  IT.  Poltergiest.  Need I go on?)

TD:  Is it because they break into your house at night and crawl in through the windows and climb on your bed and dance on you yelling, "BOO!" (She does a little jig like a freaky leprachaun as she says all this.)

V: (I glance down at her with disbelief and a bit of frightened awe) Um... yeah, something like that.

I swear this kid has peered inside my nightmares.  I can't decide what is more frightening. 

And congratulations to Kristen on her new baby girl!  What an amazing birth story!!

Styrofoam

I don't think H's grandmother had any idea that a box packed full of styrofoam peanuts would have quite this effect on TD or our house. (Pardon the poor video quality, it was dark, it was my phone.)



Later, she was absolutely convinced that there was one special styrofoam peanut that was her new best friend. Then, she lost him. Yes, it was a him. When I tried to humor her and look for "him" with her I began to wonder if she was messing with me.

V: What does your best friend look like?

TD: He's green and small.

V: Right. Green and small. Anything else?

TD: He can sit up.

Impressive.

I glanced at H across the room who was trying to stifle a laugh as he swept up the sea of peanuts laying waste to our floor. I mouthed, "I think she is fucking with me."

Twenty minutes later she was still mourning the loss of her best friend, styrofoam peanut. He was a good friend. He was green. He was little. And he could sit up. What a guy.

Overheards- Conversations with a Four Year Old

Scene:  Making lunch and talking with TD the other day.

TD:  All dinosaurs are gone now.  There are no more dinosaurs. They are extinct. 

V:  That's right!

TD:  When I grow up I want to be a paleontologist.  Then a Mom.

V:  That is a great a idea. A really good plan.

TD:  Actually, I want to be President too. 

V:  Wow. Really? (Somehow I am not surprised. The girl is obsessed with Barack Obama aka "Rock O'Mama" according to her and she's named after another President.)

TD: Yup.  I want to be President first. Then a paleontologist, then a mom. 

V:  You are going to be super busy!  Good for you for having a plan.

TD:  Yes, I am.  I like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with honey too.  That's cause they are the sweetest.  When I'm President and then a Mom and paleontologist I'll have those all the time.

Two seconds later we are talking about Valentines and Strawberry Shortcake. 

Overheards- Queen Edition

Scene:  TD and I are heading home from a long, fun day at the pumpkin patch.  My iPod is blaring Queen in the car.

TD:  "WHAT?!  Another one bites the what?!"

V:  "The dust. Another one bites the dust."

TD:  "Blech! I don't want to bite dust.  That's gross!  Is there a song that is the opposite of that?  Is there a "Another One Doesn't Bite Dust" song?" 

V:  "No, there isn't one of those songs." I try not to laugh.

TD:  "Oh. (thoughtful pause) Because I would like that song." 

Overheards: Corn Hole

Scene: We are all gathered around the table eating dinner. From our table we can view much of our neighborhood street.

H: Looks like our neighbors are playing Corn Hole again.

TD: DADDY! Don't say that word. That word is a bad word! Corn Hole is baaad!!!!

I almost spew my food and snort with laughter as she continues to mutter under her breath about how Daddy shouldn't use such bad language.

Overheards- When I'm Older

All this week I have heard nothing but, "When I'm older...", "When I'm twelve..." and "When I'm a Mommy..." 

Scene:  My bathroom.  Both girls are crowded into it twirling around in princess dresses and throwing make-up, bottles of lotion and hairbrushes around the room with wild abandon.  It's a fourth floor loft and I'm beginning to heat up and lose my patience as I try for once this week to actually do more with my hair than put it into a pony tail. 

TD:  Mommy, when I grow up I am going to have different rules.

V:  Really? 

TD:  Yes, I am going to have very different rules than you and Daddy.

V:  Mmhm... like what?

TD:  In my house we will chew with our mouths open and no one will find it "disgusting" or bad manners.  We'll chew with our mouths open and we'll like it! 

V:  Really?  Well, we'll see. 

TD:  In my house we'll have purple and pink doors on all the rooms and the bath tub will be purple and pink too.  In my house I will pray to God that I will have lots of babies and also grown up kids too.  In my house....

V:  I find this fascinating and I'll tell you this one thing- when you grow up TD, I bet your rules will be very similar to mine. 

Standing with arms crossed and leaning against a closet door she says to me in a skeptical tone, "Well, you think that now, but I don't think so when I'm eleven..."

Well, OK then.

Overheards- Jail Time

Scene:  The whole family is in the car.  We've been out all day furniture shopping for the girls new room.

TD:  "How long is jail?"

H and I exchange glances while idling at a stop light. 

V:  "What do you mean, "How long is jail?"

TD:  "Just tell me.  How. Long. IS. JAIL?!"  She is already exasperated.

H and I exchange looks again.

H: "Why do you want to know?"

TD: "I just need to know is all!" 

V: "OK, pumpkin listen, jail has various times.  It's not just one set time. So again, why do you want to know?"

H: "It depends on what you have done.  If it is a small bad thing it isn't for very long. If it is a big bad thing it is for much longer."

V: "Right.  Sometimes jail time is for the rest of your life too, if you have done something really, really bad. Even short times in jail are much longer than your time outs."

TD:  Sits thoughtfully in her car seat for a moment and still looks frustrated.  She throws up her hands and runs her fingers through her wild mane of hair and throws out her arms once again saying, "Well, I just need to know!"

I glance at H and say, "I get the feeling that if she knew the phrase, "hypothetically speaking...." we would be getting further with this conversation. H nods and says, "As in, 'hypothetically speaking, if I were to shiv you both for making me spend a day furniture shopping..."

We're Doing Something Right

There are so many days, moments and even weeks where as a parent you wonder if you are doing anything right. It is hard to see the big picture and not be stuck in the muck and mire of daily living and realize that maybe; just maybe you are doing something right as the parents to your kids.


I had a moment like that today. TD was playing with her dollhouse, something I bought for her with such great expectations at Christmastime and one of those toys that did not hit the mark. As she set up the house and played with the dolls, I heard her say, "It's OK. What seems to be the problem? Oh, well, if something is broken, that is OK. Just tell me and we'll try to fix it together."

It seems small but it was in that quiet moment that I realized she is actually listening and learning to what we have to say about how to solve problems without tantrums and fights. Her dolls did not bicker, freak out or throw themselves on the floor in disappointment as she is sometimes prone to do. They quietly resolved the problem of whatever was broken in a calm manner. It is what we try to do with her each time a situation like this occurs. We are often left wondering what we are missing or doing wrong when this behavior just keeps cropping up. It is how we talk to her and what she seems to never hear or comprehend.

Yet, she must, on some level. I have to say it was quite heartening to hear and gave me the boost I needed as a parent in a somewhat frazzled week. Later, she even said to her dolls, "It's fine. I love you just the way you are."

I got a bit emotional then. 

That's My Girl

While giving TD a bath yesterday the subject of my birthday happened to come up.  As of Wednesday I will no longer be a Triple Threat but Trente-Quatre.  Another year come and gone.

While washing a particularly precious bath toy TD said, "Mommy, your birthday is this week?! I will have to buy you a present.  It will be jewelry.  A ring.  You like rings. Great big ones!"

The kid is so right. I'm like a freakin' magpie.  Oversized cocktail rings from anywhere be it Target, Etsy, H&M, B&R or something nicer I don't care, I love them.  That girl knows her Momma.  Too bad she can't drive. 

They Have Computers in Jersey, Don't They?

Scene:  I am on the phone with TD.  Me in my CA hotel room, she at my parents home.

TD:  "Where are you now Mommy?"

V:  "I'm in California, pumpkin."

TD:  "Are you going to New Jersey next?"

V: "Err..no.  Not New Jersey."

TD:  "Is that because there are no computers in New Jersey?" 

Man, I really miss that kid.  That other one too.  What's her name again?  I mean what mother that works or travels for occasionally for work actually misses their kids, right? Heh.

You're a Bad Mommy

Scene:  In the girls bathroom, brushing TD's hair.  We are in get ready for school mode.

TD: (frowning at her reflection in the mirror. A permanent scowl has been on her face all morning.) "Mommy, you are a bad mommy."

Me:  (Stifling a sigh and the urge to rip through her hair because all morning has been this way. The frowns. The whines. The cries. The dissatisfaction.)  "I'm a bad mommy? Hm..." 

I wait a beat as she nods in confirmation.

Me:  "TD, if I was a bad mommy I wouldn't care that you said that.  It hurt my feelings.  If I was a bad mommy I wouldn't be combing your hair or helping you get dressed or feeding you breakfast. Would you like it if I said you were a bad daughter?" 

TD: "Nooo...."

Me:  (Feeling overwhelmed by sadness and guilt at that moment) "What do you say then?"

TD: "I'm sorry, Mommy."

Truth is, I'm sorry too. I am feeling harried and just a bit guilt-ridden lately.  I just had a two day work trip last week and while that isn't a long time it is the first of five trips that I have this month.  I leave again this week and after that I won't see the girls until almost the end of the month.  The tiny itch of doubt about my mothering skills is there now, no matter how hard I try. Being told by my own kid that I'm a bad mommy doesn't help.  Even if it is because she doesn't like me combing the knots out of her hair. 

She's Four and Getting Married

I guess I should be happy. She has good taste in er, boys.  A few weeks ago a mother to a boy in TD's class informed me that TD was her son's "Lady Love" and that they were "betrothed".  "Don't freak out." She said.  "We've been reading Robin Hood and that is how they talk and how the book refers to Maid Marian." OK, then.

They hold hands going into school.  They have playdates and in general, are similar and just genuinely like each others company.  It's a match made in preschool heaven when you find someone who eats the same organic snacks and hates loud noises like you do.  Right?

But TD might be two-timing her man.  Today she told me, "I'm marrying Reilly.  I'll hold flowers and then we'll hold hands after we're married because that is what you do when you are married."  "Oh really? Reilly?" I asked.  "Yes, Reilly.  Can we have a playdate so we can get married?"  I told her we would wait on the playdate since this was the first I had heard of this Reilly character. "OK. FINE." She said with a bit of an exasperated edge to her voice.  "Just don't tell anyone about us getting married.  I'm just telling myself right now.  It's still a secret."

I sort of feel for poor Reilly now.  He has no idea what is going on. 

The Eldest Child

"Mommy, I fed The Comedian some yogurt so you won't get sick." Relief spreads through my body as I express my gratitude towards my four year-old who has fed her sister breakfast without my even thinking of her doing so. This is something new. Before I can say thank you again, she adds, "And I wiped her face and hands with a napkin, so she is all set."




Tears prick my eyes as I tell her how sweet and thoughtful she is and how thankful I am. I could have fed her and yet somewhere between putting a bootie on the dog so, she could go outside with her injured foot and cleaning up TD's breakfast dishes, she has fed her baby sister. I stand amazed. As she quietly slips back downstairs to play with her own toys in her own world, I think about the duties that the eldest child takes on. They acquire so much responsibility so fast without us even noticing and sometimes it just breaks my heart.



When I was sick and lying on the floor, she read to her sister, who was in tears because Mommy was crying too. She comforted her with ease and watched over her, shuttling her away from the bathroom as I huddled over the toilet puking my insides out. She holds my hand while I lie in bed some mornings unable to move just yet and says, "Mommy, I'm sorry you don't feel well. I will give you hugs until you feel better." As an only child, I was prone to worry, anxiety and being lost in my own world much of the time. I can see TD's need for escape sometimes from the burdens that she places on herself to take care of everyone. She is a born nurturer. The best you could want for an oldest child. She is "TD to the rescue!" at a moment’s notice.

Yet, so often lately, while I stand there grateful and consumed with love and amazement for her I feel a bit sad because she does take on so much and she is so very young.